


Other Angles

by mmarydee



Series: Sowing Uncertainty [3]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Crushes, F/M, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, chapter six is a poem?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmarydee/pseuds/mmarydee
Summary: Scenes from Sowing Uncertainty told from the perspectives of Shane, Harvey, and Elliott.(fair warning, things will get sad)
Relationships: Elliott/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Harvey/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Shane & Female Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Sowing Uncertainty [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855357
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	1. Shane // Saloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Peach have met, but he doesn't remember her name. One Friday night at the saloon he realizes his first impression of her might not have been entirely accurate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as me exploring some scenes from Sowing Uncertainty from the perspective of other characters so I can get some practice writing in third-person. Then I thought it would be a fun idea to focus on three key scenes these characters have in common so that's what I've been doing instead of finishing the next chapter of Razing Doubt (oops 😅). Anyway, these will probably just be short little scenes just to give a bit more insight into what the other main characters are thinking and feeling that I couldn't convey from Peach's point of view. I hope you enjoy 😌

_[i want wind to blow](https://open.spotify.com/track/1bAZV1EBTRi9t1cVg75i8t?si=awP9XTaXTYqbrP3LU_NUxg) _

Same seat, same beer, but the saloon was too crowded on Friday nights to enjoy it. Not that drinking was something Shane _enjoyed_ anymore. A few minutes earlier, the door had swung open. She had arrived and sat too close, only two seats down at the corner of the bar. She’d been in the valley a week or two, maybe longer. He hadn’t kept track. When he had first seen her, from a distance, he thought she was a teenager. She had appeared suddenly through a gap in the trees, the wooded trail spitting her out near the ranch instead of town. He had watched from the half-rotted wooden dock above the forest pond while Marnie helped the girl get her bearings. Her voice had been soft, slightly husky, as she laughed off her mistake. Then he’d heard Marnie say his name, and he laid flat on his back and stopped listening. He tried not to recall their first introduction. He’d been an ass, which was nothing out of the ordinary, but the momentary look of shock on her face, before her features returned to an unaffected mask, had almost made him feel bad about it.

“Another one, Em,” Shane grunted to the bartender, pushing his empty glass toward her across the bar top.

“Can I get one of those too, Emily?” Her voice sounded brighter, and Shane could hear her smiling around the words. 

She’d recently moved into Willowbrook Farm, the stretch of overgrown land north of the ranch. The property sat abandoned for at least fifteen years, and Shane didn’t expect she’d be able to turn the place around on her own. She was slight and short. Not that Shane was very tall himself, but he had at least six inches on her. He was also willing to bet she’d never done any arduous work before; she needed both her hands to lift her full glass to her lips. Shane’s face settled into a glare as she caught him looking. Even so, the girl’s lips quivered into a tiny smile. He tilted his glass in her direction before taking a deep drink and lowering his eyes to the bar until he could no longer feel her watching him. He wasn’t going to talk to her. Sure, she seemed friendly enough; she was probably a sweet girl. But Shane wasn’t interested in _friendly_ or _sweet_.

She eyed her drink for a minute, twisting her fingers like she was trying to crack knuckles that had already cracked. She stopped fidgeting after a few more sips, and her head turned this way and that as she examined her surroundings. Shane’s mind wandered to when he was new to the valley, and his less-than-graceful adjustment to small-town living. Not that he sympathized with the girl, but she seemed scared. At least she had a convincing smile, hiding her unease behind something other than a scowl. The people here wouldn’t mistrust an innocent face like hers. His eyes fell on his half-empty glass, remaining there until a movement to his left made him look up. She was smiling again, waving across the room to Leah. The man next to her, Elliott, turned his head in their direction, tossing his long hair pompously over his shoulder. His eyes landed on the girl, then flickered momentarily to Shane. He turned back to Leah, whispered something. Leah’s bright laugh fluttered over the noisy crowd. Shane rolled his eyes, and they landed on the girl to his left. She wore a confused frown, her shoulders tense around her neck, her eyes darkened. She caught Shane staring.

“ _What?”_

Her tone was poison, her eyes icy, and her face momentarily sharp. She didn’t look as young as Shane had thought at first. There were faint, purple shadows under her blue-green eyes, and her slightly downturned mouth formed a tense circle. Half a second later, she softened, her calm mask once again in place, but the brief glimpse beneath it was enough to keep Shane looking.

“Sorry,” she said softly. She picked up her glass and didn’t put it down again until she had swallowed its contents. Shane let out a short laugh, raising his drink to his lips, emptying it in two large gulps. He’d had enough to try to talk to her. Though, he would have to ask her name again. He stood and walked around to the other side of her stool.

“You live near me,” he said. Why had he led with that? “Let me walk you home.” Even worse.

She stared at him a moment, her eyes boring into his. Her round face was blank, but when her right eyebrow twitched slightly upward, Shane suspected she was making an effort to keep it that way. She turned and dug in her pocket, leaving a fistful of change on the bar. Shane crossed the room and opened the door, the girl following a few paces behind. Her eyes met his again as she passed through the doorway into the night, sweeping fleetingly close. She didn’t stop to wait, taking the northern road and leaving Shane alone in the dark square. Smart girl, he thought. Starting down the path toward the ranch, he slipped a flask out of his back pocket, twisted it open, and took a long drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lil project is mostly just for fun but I always appreciate feedback 💕


	2. Harvey // Saloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey reflects on his early days in Pelican town in the wake of Peach's arrival.

_[the separation](https://open.spotify.com/track/3efl9YDXc5mHtXdL7Gvmiq?si=qkAs8Ih-RxeZdcijqG3y2Q) _

It was a rare night that Harvey found himself in the saloon, much less this late in the evening. It was rarer still that he’d drank a second glass of wine, but he figured everything that could have gone wrong that week already had, from the large hook he’d removed from Willy’s hand to Abigail’s sprained ankle, earned from exploring those old mines. It hadn’t seemed likely that anyone else could need his services tonight. He sipped his third drink, coffee, an old habit from an old life when he’d been unable to get home without driving himself. He’d be awake later that night than he’d prefer, but what the hell, it was Friday. He might as well live a little.

He glanced around the large room, warm and wooden, bathed in the fire’s yellow glow. After a few strange weeks, everyone seemed to have settled back into their usual routines. He hoped no one had noticed the deviation in his. Rumors grew like quickly climbing vines, encircling their subjects in spiraling tendrils, attaching themselves. In the valley, once an idea of a person had taken root, it usually stuck. 

He had witnessed the same pattern with every new arrival since his own. For several weeks the newcomer would be the primary topic of conversation: speculation before their arrival, a comparison of observations for a few weeks afterward. Things would return to normal as fresh faces became familiar, their new labels affixed. He’d seen it with Leah, the reclusive artist, Elliott, the would-be writer, and Shane, who’d been most unfortunately branded an impolite drunk. It wasn’t as though Harvey knew any of them well enough to speak against these characterizations; he just believed most people were more often not who they were perceived to be.

It had all been much the same with the latest newcomer. For about a week in early spring, he’d heard what felt like dozens of theories about who would be moving into the abandoned house on the northwestern edge of town. As suppositions evolved into truths, he’d overheard a lot of personal information that he had no idea how these busybodies knew. But then again, without participating in a single conversation, he had learned that the stretch of land had once been a farm, left neglected when its former owner passed away. Caroline had called the circumstances tragic, but she often liked to exaggerate. The facts of the matter were the late farmer had willed the land to a grandchild, who would be moving in with plans to revitalize the forsaken farm.

When the young woman moved in, she wasn’t what anyone had expected. It seemed to have become somewhat of a joke to refer to this obvious city girl as a farmer. It reminded Harvey, not fondly, of his early days in Pelican Town. He hadn’t felt unwelcome; the people here were more or less amiable. Still, after replacing the town’s former physician, who had retired at seventy-two, the consensus had been that Harvey was much too young and inexperienced to take seriously. Their opinion of him had at least changed when Harvey treated Jodi’s younger son after he’d eaten a few holly berries off of a Winter Star decoration. Six years later, he’d found himself a trusted figure in the community, with the exception, perhaps, of Mr. Mullner. The latter refused to see Harvey as anything other than a young city boy trying to order him around. It frustrated Harvey to be called young now, in his mid-thirties, when his shoulders and back often ached and made him feel ancient.

Now, however, Harvey felt thoroughly warmed, sipping his coffee before a breath of chill breeze blew through the door as it opened. As he set down his mug, he caught movement to his right, and he turned slightly to see the farmer slide into a stool at the corner of the bar. Harvey hadn’t seen her other than a brief glimpse through the blinds on the waiting room windows as she walked to the grocer’s next door. He tried not to look, feigning interest in the medical journal on the bar in front of him, open to a page detailing a surgery he’d likely never perform. But it wasn’t long before curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes pulled themselves toward her.

Her hands were wrapped around a glass of beer, though she barely looked old enough to drink it. She’d pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, long waves spilling like a fountain to her shoulders. She stared at her drink, fidgeting in her seat until she noticed Shane. The surly young man glared at her from his place against the wall. The girl’s face illuminated as a tiny smile crossed her lips, two little shadows appearing beneath her cheeks. Harvey blinked, and her light had gone out again, her eyes cast downward, focused on the drink that sat between her thin fingers. He noted the tension in her shoulders, which seemed to lessen as she sipped her beer. With a twitch of unease, he wondered if she and Shane might have something in common.

She suddenly looked up, and Harvey’s eyes snapped back to the book in front of him. He released a silent breath. The churning beneath his ribs convinced him she wouldn’t appreciate him staring at her. But something small within him wished he could see her smile again. He lifted his mug halfway to his mouth only to find it empty. He toyed with the idea of ordering another coffee, decaf, of course. He pictured himself moving a few seats to his right, introducing himself to her, learning her name. He was bound to meet her at some point; there was no reason it couldn’t happen now. But his heart pounded, and his palms dampened, and he questioned what had gotten into him. It must have been that second glass of wine.

Even as he imagined the sound of her voice, the color of her eyes, indefinable in the yellow light, he chided himself. He had no business wondering about these things. Harvey had grown accustomed to what he’d considered a professional distance. He hadn’t felt particularly moved to approach anyone socially in what might have been years. It was silly to entertain the notion that he could be anything other than a lonely old doctor in this tiny town. He pulled a few bills from his wallet, tucking the edges under his mug as he stood from his stool. He shrugged into his jacket and, with a polite smile and a nod to Emily, he turned and moved toward the door.


	3. Elliott // Saloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliott meets Leah for a drink after a rough day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternative title:  
> when you have writer's block while trying to write about writer's block

[ _the loneliness inside me is a place_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0CE9nKVJ39ruJLu8QmKd5B?si=Hs9inN62QTORCYd273C1-Q)

Golden light momentarily poured out the saloon door before darkness fell upon the square again. Dr. Harvey offered Elliott a brief smile and a nod as he passed on his way to the clinic. Elliott returned the gesture before turning on his heel to resume pacing back and forth outside the door. He was supposed to meet Leah twenty minutes ago but couldn’t bring himself to go in. He’d checked his savings that afternoon, and things looked grim. He wouldn’t be able to afford Friday night drinks much longer. Hell, he couldn’t afford them now. The truth was, if he really, _really_ tightened his budget, he could last a little under one more year in the valley. If he kept going as he had been, he’d be out of money in a matter of months.

Elliott sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. He hated to admit it, but he needed a job. Not that work opportunities were abundant in Pelican Town. He was sure the saloon patrons barely tipped enough to pay Emily’s bills, and while JojaMart would provide a stable hourly wage, Elliott couldn’t bring himself to apply. Even the thought of it threatened to suck out his soul. Besides, working would mean he wouldn’t have as much time to write- not that _that_ had been going well either. 

He wanted a drink, anything to loosen rusted gears in his mind and make them turn again. He most craved a change in scenery, not merely replacing his desk with a table, his pen for a full glass. It had returned, the same frustrating urge that, nearly two years ago, had him replacing a one-bedroom apartment for a one-room cabin, quick research for reference books, and the occasional use of Leah’s dial-up internet connection, the city skyline for a blank horizon across the water and the endless possibilities beyond it. _Two years_ of writing _every day_ , and he had nothing to show for it but a growing pile of printed pages and seven and a half notebooks filled with abandoned ideas and useless drivel.

What made it all the worse was that he loathed the way he saw the valley now. The desolate gloom of the calm sea outside Elliott’s door brought no movement to his heart. It might as well have been burned into his eyes. He longed to feel the floating joy in his chest, the way it had bubbled up from within when all of it was new. Now and then, he’d almost feel it for a fleeting moment, but it slipped through his fingers before he could catch it and let it carry him on to new ideas. Elliott would have liked to blame it on remaining bitterness from a miserable winter, but something had soured inside him long before the coldest nights arrived. 

After everything he’d heard from everyone he knew at home, how had Elliott _still_ been surprised he couldn’t do this? The only person who even half believed in him was Leah, who he had now kept waiting for thirty minutes. He ran his hands through his hair, spreading his fingers to work out the tangles. With one final sigh, he was ready at last to swallow his pride and ask Leah to buy him a round.

He climbed the steps and pushed open the heavy door, instantly greeted by warmth, music, and chattering conversation. He barely looked around as he moved toward their regular table. Leah stood by the jukebox, flipping through a catalog she must now have known by heart. She glanced behind her before she spun, her long copper braid whipping around her shoulder as she waved him over. A bright smile lit up her face. Elliott felt his brow soften as he sunk into his seat. 

“Took you long enough,” she laughed, sliding into the seat next to him. She touched the base of an empty glass of wine on the table. “Don’t be mad. I got started without you.”

“You may have to finish without me, too,” Elliott said.

“No.” Leah shook her head. She waved to Gus behind the bar and gestured toward Elliott. Gus smiled and nodded, picking up a rocks glass and a bottle of scotch. Leah was at the bar in three steps, meeting the bottle of wine Gus offered with her empty glass, then turning to set both drinks on the table. Another moment later, she was back in her seat, Elliott two sips into his drink as she raised her glass to her lips. “So, where were you? Writing?”

“Not exactly.”

“Elliott,” Leah said.

“I _know_ ,” he groaned.

“How bad is it?”

“If I don’t eat, I can live here as long as I like.”

“Fuck.”

“You put it so eloquently.”

“What can I say? I know words,” Leah laughed. She nodded at his glass. “Let me know when you need another.” 

Elliott’s eyes fell to the drink in his hand, and he noticed he’d nearly drained it. He rested his elbow on the table, smiling sheepishly at Leah. Her half-smile dimpled her left cheek, rosy below a dusting of light freckles. 

“I think they might have been right,” Elliott sighed.

“No, they weren’t.” Leah raised her finger and rested it on his forehead. “There’s a book in there. Several books.”

“Maybe I can talk to the doctor and have them surgically removed. Save some time,” he chuckled and drained his glass.

“I think you need a constructive distraction,” Leah said, twirling the end of her braid between two fingers. “Sometimes the best thing I can do for a project is give it a break for a few days.”

“Maybe,” Elliott sighed. 

“Not to change the subject, but did you notice anything new when you walked in here?” Her deep blue eyes sparkled above her wine-blushed cheeks. 

“No. What should I have noticed?”

“The farmer’s here. You walked right past her on your way in.”

“Oh,” Elliott said, his eyebrows raised. He felt as though he’d heard everything about her but her name. “Where?”

“Other end of the bar. ‘At point’, as you like to say,” Leah giggled. She sat up straighter in her seat, lifted an arm, and waved. Elliott turned to see the girl at the other end mirror Leah’s action. The girl’s eyes landed on him, and he looked away reflexively. He glanced briefly at Shane before turning back toward Leah.

“Think she’d give me a job?” he asked. Leah laughed loudly, the bright sound clashing against Elliott’s dusky spirit. Her smile wilted when his failed to bloom.

“Shit. It’s _really_ that bad, huh?”

“It’s that bad.” Elliott closed his eyes, brushing his thumb and forefinger over his lashes. Nine months. That was all the time he had left to make his dream a reality; to not return home a failure. And if he couldn’t, he’d at least have a bit of money left to live on until he found a job back home. He felt a wry smile curl his lips as he realized it was now or never, and that never was a genuine possibility. His shoulders drooped, and he eyed the empty glass in his hand. “So. About that drink?”


	4. Shane // Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane accidentally asks a girl to dance.

_[talking shit about a pretty sunset](https://open.spotify.com/track/5PrPN445xZxYuMD4nIR1UC?si=r5Rb4zMARoKQBHoiMlsDRg) _

The clearing in Cindersap Forest was alive with color and noise. Shane was miserable. He was sure his dress clothes fit a bit tighter than they had last year. The sun was too bright, and it was much too warm for spring. He made his way across the clearing with a half-empty beer and an empty wine glass. He didn’t look at anyone he passed, but he could feel their eyes on him. He stood out from the other residents of Pelican Town. He was a black hole of joylessness marring the idyllic landscape. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck into his collar as he made his way toward his only friend.

Emily stood a few paces ahead, chatting with the grocer’s wife, Caroline. The older woman all but wrinkled her nose as Shane approached. He caught the end of her muttered excuse to Emily, followed by an apology before she scurried off in the opposite direction. Emily tossed her vivid blue hair as she turned toward Shane, smiling brightly. No matter how long he’d known her, he could never get used to her looking happy to see him.

Neither of the two was what most seemed to think constituted a good resident of the small town. But while Emily’s differences seemed to draw people in, Shane could only push away. If she was a butterfly, he was a hornet. However, she had managed to crack through his shell and avoid his sting, forcing her kindness on him no matter how rude he was to her. It wasn’t that Shane didn’t appreciate her friendship; he didn’t deserve it. Not to mention the irony of his only friend in town was the bartender. He gulped down the last of the icy beer in his cup.

“Hey, partner,” Emily grinned. “It’s almost time to open up the dance floor. You ready?”

“Uh, about that,” Shane started. Emily let out a loud laugh.

“Uh, No. You’re dancing today, so get over it already.” Her tone was joking, but Shane knew Emily better than that.

“Em, I think your new friend needs you.” He gestured toward the water’s edge, where the farmer stood, her arms folded over each other, her shoulders tense around her neck. 

“Can’t leave that girl alone for a minute, can I?” Emily chuckled. “What happened?”

“Elliott.” Shane scoffed. “Peach thought he was asking her to dance. He wasn’t.” Shane was still not entirely sure how to explain. He glared at the empty cup in his hand. “She got all embarrassed and— I don’t fucking know. She looked so pathetic, all panicky. So, I kind of barged in and told him, good thing he wasn’t asking because she has a partner already. And that it’s me.” 

“Well, well, well,” Emily’s smile widened as she raised her eyebrows.

“Shut up, Em,” he groaned. “I doubt she’ll stick around long enough to make what I said true.”

“Not if I can help it. Don’t worry about a thing. You’ll get your dance.” Emily winked as she whirled around. Before Shane could say another word, she was halfway across the clearing.

 _You like her, don’t you?_ Emily had asked at the saloon the night before. Her brown eyes were shining, her giddy smile and wiggling eyebrows nothing short of infuriating. Shane responded with a glare before he drained his glass and gestured for another. She shot him a questioning look as she poured his drink. _No._ He’d said. _And it wouldn’t matter if I did._ Emily had insisted Peach only agreed to come to the Flower Dance because she knew he would be there. She was so full of shit.

Shane huffed as he made his way toward the refreshments. He poured himself another beer from the keg, glancing over his shoulder at Peach as his cup slowly filled. Despite her obvious anxiety, she appeared to belong among the other women floating about the clearing in their white dresses. Peach had struck Shane as more of a tomboy. Had he thought about it, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine her in a dress. She stood at the edge of the water, twisting her fingers. Her skirt fluttered around her legs in the breeze, accentuating the curve of her hip. When Emily managed to coax a smile out of Peach, Shane couldn’t deny she _was_ kind of—

Frosty beer washed over Shane’s fingers and splattered his shoes and the grass. He released the nozzle and sipped about an inch off the top of his cup before setting it on the table. He slightly overfilled Peach’s glass with white wine. He still wasn’t sure if his actions had actually helped her, or if he’d managed to humiliate her further. Either way, she looked like she needed it. He made his way to the others at the edge of the water and pushed the glass into Peach’s waiting hands. She didn’t look entirely calm, but he thought he caught a sliver of gratitude in her expression. Whether it was for the drink or what had happened with Elliott, he couldn’t tell. 

Shane apologized to Emily again for ruining her plans, though he was sure she didn’t mind at all. Emily had been trying to push him toward Peach for weeks. Last night he had finally asked her why. _She reminds me of you. When you first got here_ , she’d said. _You never talked to anyone but me and Gus, and if you weren’t working, you were home. Or, here at the saloon, when you could afford it. Also, she’s the first person I’ve seen you be almost nice to._ Shane had rolled his eyes. Arguing with her was pointless. Somehow she always managed to get her way.

Emily winked again as she rushed off to find a new dance partner. Peach had fallen quiet, but from beside her, Shane could practically hear her mind whirling. He felt his brow soften as he looked at her.

“Chin up, kid.” The words bubbled up naturally, leaving his mouth before he had time to think about them. It was what he always told Jas when she was having a hard day. Peach raised her sea-green eyes to his, and he half-smiled. “The dance is easy,” he shrugged. “I’ll do all the work.”

Peach didn’t smile, but her shoulders relaxed. She took a deep breath and chased it with a big gulp of her drink. Shane turned his eyes toward the flowing water and did the same.


	5. Harvey // Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flower dance doesn't pan out the way Harvey expects.

[ _daylily_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6AgtouHw1KrKy1PsoLjY3o?si=n6Rso9GrTIe5F62saz2lLg)

The breeze swayed the branches above the clearing, rattling their leaves and dulling the noise of the party below. Clusters of people stood scattered about the green grass, engaged in lively conversation and laughter. Harvey leaned against the wooden fence on the edge of the clearing, eyes on the swirling deep red liquid in the bowl of his glass. He resisted the temptation to check his watch again. Time would pass whether or not he watched the second hand spin. He raised his wine to his lips, appreciating the pleasant blend of dark berries and sweet oak.

A sullen smile twitched at Harvey’s lips. Perhaps it was a bit sad that he’d rather be home among his books, his radio, and model planes than spend a beautiful afternoon outdoors with other people. Maru had made her thoughts on the matter clear years ago. _You and my brother are too much alike_ , she’d said. _You’d both be lost in your own little worlds without someone to pull you out now and again._ Then she’d dragged him to the center of the clearing to dance.

Harvey gulped another mouthful of wine. She may have been right. He couldn’t explain the sense of listlessness that had taken root in him. Though he had always preferred his own company to that of others, Harvey had begun to feel as though solitude had lost its sense of peace. Still, he couldn’t quite imagine anything for himself other than what he already had.

His lungs prepared to expel a quiet sigh when at the edge of his vision, he caught the rapid approach of a bright blue blur.

“Harvey!” Emily waved as she rushed toward him across the clearing. “I need your help with something.”

“What is it?” He instinctively reached toward his first aid kit, which hung on the fencepost near his elbow. “Is someone hurt?”

“Oh, no!” she laughed. “Not, like, medical help.” 

“Ah— I see.” Harvey blinked, realizing at last that Emily was smiling. His heart pounded hard twice more before settling into a calmer tempo.

“It’s, uh, my friend over there,” Emily began. 

His eyes followed her hand as she gestured toward a pair of people at the water’s edge. A woman stood at Shane’s side before the sparkling stream. It took Harvey a moment to recognize her. Their paths hadn’t crossed since he considered introducing himself at the saloon weeks ago. Her face was shadowed with worry as she turned to face her companion. Harvey wondered what the matter was. What help could he possibly offer? Had he heard the rest of what Emily said, he might have known.

She stared at him expectantly, her brown eyes smiling. Mild panic bubbled in his chest. All he could think to do was nod.

“Thank you!” Emily squealed as she grabbed hold of his sleeve and whirled around.

She pulled him behind her as she moved toward the others. Harvey tried his best not to spill his wine as he followed her, bewildered. What had he just agreed to do?

“Easy enough,” Emily said with a laugh as they drew closer to the others. “Doc, have you met Peach?”

“I— can’t say that I have.” 

Harvey’s heart fluttered like wings as warmth rose to his cheeks. He managed a smile and reached out his hand. The woman reached back, placing her small, warm hand in his. A practiced introduction left him. He felt his lips smile around her name. Her eyes met his, and he absorbed the faint glow of her hesitant smile. Her hair wisped around her shoulders with the breeze. For a strange and exhilarating moment, she was all there was.

Harvey remembered himself and dropped her hand. He brushed a wave of hair off his brow, catching the subtle fragrance of flowers and spice. 

“Let’s show Peach the dance. We don’t have much time before it starts.” 

Emily took his glass and handed it to Peach before she reached for his hand. It was beginning to make sense. Almost. 

Harvey’s hand hesitated a moment before coming lightly to rest at Emily’s waist. He could feel Peach’s eyes on them as they danced. A mixture of excitement and terror he couldn’t explain rushed through his limbs. He was suddenly grateful that Maru had forced him to learn the dance. They stepped apart as they finished. 

Emily retrieved his glass and returned it to him along with Peach’s. Shane and Peach nervously stepped closer to one another. They exchanged uneasy smiles as Shane took her hand, and she rested her other on his shoulder. 

They began to practice the steps as Emily coached their movements, stifling giggles as Peach tripped over her own feet. As nervous as she had been only a minute ago, a wide smile brightened her face as a laugh tumbled out of her. Emily could no longer contain herself. Even Shane let out a gruff chuckle as Peach stepped on his toes. She must have apologized half a dozen times by the time they had finished.

A smile crept to Harvey’s lips as Emily pushed the pair back together to try again. Fortunately, during their second attempt, Peach learned to follow Shane’s lead. 

“Thanks for helping me out,” Emily said, now confident the two could manage without her counting. “As you can see, my partner abandoned me.”

“I’m happy to,” Harvey replied, realizing now the demonstration was only the beginning of the favor. 

“Well,” she laughed, “In case dancing with me isn’t enough of a reward, you’re next coffee at the Stardrop is on me.”

“That’s kind of you, Emily, but I don’t—”

She waved her hand as if to dismiss his thought. She’d begun counting again in a loud voice, earning herself one of Shane’s signature scowls. 

Harvey turned to look for Maru. He knew he should tell her what was going on. A hand brushed his elbow before he could find her. He turned to find Peach looking up at him. It seemed they’d decided they’d had enough practice. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, his heart began to batter against his ribs.

“Can I— um, my glass?” The sound of her voice was mellow and melodious. 

Harvey offered her the glass, and she carefully took it. Peach thanked him, her lips curving into a small smile. She raised the glass slightly in his direction before she emptied it in a single swallow. He watched as she returned to Shane and they made their way to the center of the clearing together. A moment later, Emily had him by the sleeve once again, pulling him after her to join them. 

It was then that he found Maru, standing with her parents in the crowd. Her expression bordered between amusement and irritation. Already she was demanding an explanation. For now, all he could give her was an apologetic smile as he and Emily joined the line of dancers and the music began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi sorry it's been taking me forever to update these days. I'm still writing every day, I just keep coming up with new ideas and distracting myself from finishing things as quickly as I'd like to. If you want more frequent updates as to all of the things I'm planning/actively working on, I have a [tumblr](https://word-ghost.tumblr.com/). Oh also, if you have requests, please send 'em. Turns out I'm more motivated to finish things when I know somebody wants to read them lmao


	6. Elliott // Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliott wrote a sonnet about who he met at the dance.

_by the stream_

The pinks and early greens of springtime may  
One’s senses cause to drift away and dream  
The fool could taste the promise of this day  
The comely maiden waiting by the stream  
Her hair and lacy frock danced with the breeze  
Eyes closed in tranquil thought, she seemed entranced  
A glowing ghost alone among the trees  
She drew him in, inspired his advance  
The curiosity would drive him mad  
He wondered what sweet daydreams graced her mind  
A dashed desire he had not known he’d had  
When with another she became entwined  
For now, retreat, but a decision then  
If he might find the chance, he’d ask again

— _Elliott A. O'Connor_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this scene has been giving me a lot of trouble, so here’s a poem in its place until I figure it out. By that I mean glare at it until I get fed up and work on something else. 
> 
> I really just needed to put something here so I can move on haha


	7. Shane // Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane wakes up in the clinic.  
> cw for depression, suicide, alcohol.  
> read at your discretion & please stay safe 🖤

[ _far away_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0KyeIUcbf3tDIOh0fvLSDg?si=wt8PMjsnSTKseNUykq_XwA)

There wasn’t a single sound, the air was motionless, and darkness loomed in every direction. Shane thought he was outside, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Every sense seemed dulled, but there might have been grass beneath his feet. Where had he left his shoes? He raised a hand to his head. His hair was wet. 

He spun a full circle before he chose a direction to walk. For a moment, he thought he felt the soft warmth of a breeze across his face. He held out his arms ahead of him, stretching his fingers as far as they would reach. There was nothing but stagnant air and the solid ground that rose to meet his feet. 

As he walked, his mind unclouded, his feet felt more firm against the earth. He began to wonder where he was. He didn't know where he was going, but he seemed to be getting there. He pushed on until his legs began to tire and the thick, humid air burned in his lungs. He paused to catch his breath and once again felt a hint of something... warm.

He raised his eyes above him to find nothing but darkness, but the warmth remained. Exhausted, he lowered himself to the ground. Blades of grass tickled his arms as he lay back. He let his eyelids fall closed, only for them to snap back open. The darkness remained, but when he’d closed his eyes, he’d seen the light behind them.

It started low and red but grew brighter the longer he held his eyes shut. There was a sound now, a whisper of a voice. The ground below him changed; it was solid but not hard. His lungs filled and emptied in slow, steady breaths. The voice spoke again, murmuring inaudible promises that overlapped and grew to a deafening din. Her whispers became waves crashing violently against rocky cliffs. 

Shane’s eyes flew open. He saw her. Her name clawed his throat as he cried out. His head throbbed, every part of him felt ragged and raw. He turned his head, and a wave of nausea washed over him. His heart raced. He shivered under a cold sweat. His empty stomach folded in on itself and his body curled as he dry-heaved, his face pressed into a mattress.

“Shane?” 

His eyes opened again, and he let out a pathetic groan. The room was dark, but he recognized it. The worn blue linoleum, the sign of the vessel on the wall, the damn IV attached to his arm. The voice belonged to the doctor.

“Why am I here?” Shane rasped through a throat that felt full of broken glass. Why was he _anywhere_?

“There was— ah,” Harvey hesitated. “Do you remember what happened?”

“No.” He answered too quickly. Shane couldn’t remember anything past early afternoon. He hadn’t done enough to scrub this morning from his memory. 

“What’s the last thing you can remember?”

“Breakfast.” Shane winced as Harvey shone a light in his eyes.

“Sorry,” the doctor said, tucking the penlight into his coat pocket. “We’ll need to run a test or two— but then I’ll leave you to get a bit more rest.” Harvey’s glasses almost hid the exhaustion that shadowed his eyes. He checked Shane’s blood pressure and drew a sample of blood.

“How did—” Shane coughed and nearly retched again.

“A friend brought you in,” Harvey said, handing him a paper cup of water. Shane wanted to drain it, but every swallow made him wince.

“Em?” How could she have? He made sure she'd be at work.

“No, ah,” Harvey said, watching him closely. “Peach found you in the woods.”

Peach? Shane hadn’t seen her in weeks, not since the dance. When he’d woken the following afternoon, he ached in his every cell. He had a vague idea of a conversation by the pond, but he couldn’t remember what they’d talked about. He was only sure that he had said too much. She stopped coming to the bar. At least she didn't come when he was there. He figured he’d finally done enough to push her away.

“She’ll be glad to know you’re awake,” Harvey continued. The ghost of a smile faded from his face. “You had us worried.”

Shane glared at the ceiling. Waking up in the clinic had been horrifying the first time, humiliating the second, and a hassle the last. This time wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to wake up.

“I think it’s time to come up with a plan to deal with this, Shane,” Harvey said gently. “We’ll go over the options. Marnie has agreed to help— but we don’t have to talk about it all now. I’ll leave you to rest.” 

Harvey rested a reassuring hand on Shane's shoulder before picking up his chart and the vial of dark blood. He paused at the door, a tall silhouette in the florescent light that streamed through its window.

“We’re glad you’re still with us.” 

“Yeah,” Shane choked. Two boiling tears slid down his cheeks. _Sure._


	8. Harvey // Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One (1) quiet moment for Harvey in the clinic after a chaotic day.  
> And the reason he was so blushy around Peach the next morning 😳

_[everyone's asleep in the house but me](https://open.spotify.com/track/4yPST7G2hLaKRAQmrrCvMr?si=TH7y-AsfQVuU6wiJIte5mA) _

The howling downpour that started that afternoon hadn’t let up in the least. For as chaotic a scene as the clinic had been that day, everything now was dark and still. The muffled sound of the rain with the whir of the IV pump provided an oddly soothing ambiance.

Harvey had gone to his apartment for a quick bite to eat, knowing he’d spend the majority of his night downstairs. Now he sat near the infirmary door, using the light that fell through the window to do his paperwork. He would have been more comfortable at his desk, but—

He glanced up at the man on the nearest bed, his scruffy face half a scowl even in his sleep. To call the situation complicated would be an understatement. Harvey didn’t want Shane to wake up alone.

He returned his attention to the open file on his lap and reviewed Peach’s paperwork. Her handwriting was an erratic blend of cursive and print, all bubbles and points. It was somehow messy and neat all at once.

Peach was her legal name. Her birthday was a month and a week after his. _Nine years_ , a month, and a week. Her middle initial was E. What sort of middle name went with Peach? Was it something equally unconventional or an ordinary name to balance it out? Harvey tried to reel in his curiosity and skimmed the rest of the information.

For her address, she’d only written ‘Willowbrook Farm’. Not exactly official, but he was sure she’d have no problems receiving her mail. In Pelican Town, the least you needed was a name and a stamp. Harvey knew the road to the farm was an extension of Main Street, though the name changed about a half-mile out of town. He could ask Lewis for the address and fill it in later.

She had left the rest of the form blank. No phone number, no emergency contact— no insurance. That explained her reluctance to let Harvey examine her knee. He felt uneasy about his insistence to treat her. It was the right decision, of course, especially since she’d almost fallen in his waiting room. The joint needed rest. And Harvey knew Peach wanted to be near Shane until she was sure he was alright. _No insurance_. He couldn’t quite convince himself he’d done her a favor. He closed Peach’s file, leaving it on the empty chair beside him.

Harvey stood to check on her, slowly pulling back the curtain that surrounded her bed. She had kicked one foot out from under it but clutched the blanket tight around her shoulders. A loud crack of thunder rattled the walls. Peach stirred and tried to roll over, but her bandaged leg was unwilling to cooperate. Her eyes half opened as she tried to sit up.

“It’s loud,” she mumbled, a fist rubbing at one of her eyes.

Harvey stared at her, bewildered. He’d given her a sleep aid; was this a side effect, or was this normal for her?

“That it is,” he finally said. “Did the storm wake you?”

“My leg hurts.” She slipped her fingertips beneath the upper edge of her bandage.

“Now you tell me.” Harvey bit back a chuckle. “Is that too tight?”

“Little bit.”

Harvey brought over two more anti-inflammatories and a cup of water. Peach wobbled but remained upright, swallowing the pills without difficulty. Harvey moved a chair closer to the bed to loosen her bandage. He rested her socked foot on his thigh. She swayed a bit, fighting for another few minutes of consciousness. They were silent while Harvey unwound the bandage and replaced it, careful not to wrap it too tight.

“Is that better?” Harvey raised his eyes to hers, expecting to find them still half-lidded and drowsy. They were wide open, to all appearances lucid, shining in the dim light. He swallowed his smile.

“I think— I forgot to say thank you.” Her voice was low, her tongue heavy with sleep.

Harvey couldn’t recall whether she had. He held his breath as she leaned toward him and reached out a hand. His heart pounded as her fingertips followed the wave of a lock of hair, fallen across his brow. She brushed it aside, tilting her head, her expression curious as she studied his face.

“I don’t think you did,” Harvey muttered, his cheeks burning. “At any rate, you’ve told me now.” He gently took hold of her wrist, returning her arm to her side. He helped her settle back into bed, covering her with the blanket.

He hadn’t begun to process what just happened when the shrill bell of the telephone pierced the silence. Peach seemed undisturbed by the noise. Harvey closed the curtain and pushed through the hall and into his office. He lifted the phone to his ear.

“It’s Marnie. Just calling to check in.” Her warm voice was tinged with worry.

“He’s still out,” Harvey said. “But I’ll call you as soon as anything changes.”

“Please do. I’m sure I’ll be up all night.” After a pause, she asked, “How’s Peach? That knee looked pretty busted.”

“You know, as her doctor, I can’t tell you anything.”

“What can you tell me as her neighbor?”

Harvey exhaled a puff of air through his nose. Why was everyone in town like this?

“Is it bad?” Marnie prodded.

He shouldn’t have said anything. Telling Marnie was, in no uncertain terms, overstepping a boldly defined boundary. But Marnie wasn’t the type to pry without reason. And to heal, Peach was going to need help. She couldn’t afford to risk further injury by pushing herself too hard.

“She should stay off the leg at least a week,” Harvey admitted.

“Poor kid,” Marnie sighed. “What rotten luck.”

“She’s— she’s in more pain than she’s letting on.” The words left Harvey unsure why he’d said them. Marnie seemed to think nothing of it.

“She’s tough; I’ll give her that. I’ll meet her at the farm tomorrow morning to get her situated. See how I can help her out.”

“You’re a saint, Marnie.” A warm wave of relief washed away Harvey’s building sense of unease.

“Hardly,” she said with a dry laugh. “She wouldn’t be in this mess if—” She took an audible breath. “I’ll wait to hear from you about Shane.”

“As soon as anything happens,” he promised.

Harvey hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. At least his most peculiar patient had someone looking out for her. He stretched his neck and headed toward the stairs to brew a pot of coffee. It was going to be a long night. He only made it a few steps.

“Sadie!” a hoarse voice cried out from the infirmary, followed by a burst of commotion. Harvey pounded back down the stairs and pushed through the infirmary door.

“Shane?”


	9. Elliott // Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliott goes to the saloon to escape the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi uh, here's another chapter 🙃

_[liquid paper](https://open.spotify.com/track/5IubD5PEcD7xIYzgG2NVCT?si=s9XvsRQnTPiE8wixxWi2eg) _

Before the first raindrops fell, Elliott listened as the river bubbled along beneath the stone bridge. To his right, the sea beat against the beach, the endless rhythm muffled by distance. Summer green leaves rattled in the strong breeze above him, mingling with the chatter in the town square behind him. It was a perfect mixture of everything he’d grown to love about this little part of the world. He basked in it.

A rumble of thunder stirred him from his daydreams. At first, he expected an afternoon shower, that it would blow over. From where he stood, Elliott couldn’t see the mass of ominous clouds that gathered beyond the tree line. Fat drops of rain splashed the sun-warmed stone at his feet, and Elliott dashed toward the saloon without a second thought.

The hour he thought he’d spend there turned into nearly three, and the rain showed no sign of letting up. Elliott didn’t have enough with him for more than one ale. Gus hadn’t seemed to mind. Even so, he raised an eyebrow when Elliott pulled another napkin from the caddy on the bar.

He’d amassed a bit of a pile, jotting down the ideas that only ever seemed to catch him unprepared. He’d have liked to have his notebook, but this would do for now. Lately, he’d found his ideas had been snowballing into something bigger, something worth writing.

He wasn’t conscious of the time that slipped by. He hadn't noticed the regulars filtering in, leaving dripping coats and umbrellas on hooks inside the door. It wasn’t until Leah collapsed into the chair beside him with two drinks that he looked up from his work.

“Be careful,” Elliott said, snatching a napkin out from under one of the ales in Leah’s hands.

“Sorry,” Leah said, glancing around the surface of the table. Elliott had covered it in piles of napkins, each covered front and back with character details, plot points, and settings. “This a new part of your process?”

“I’ve let an idea run with me,” Elliott said, only now realizing that he must have looked a bit silly. He cleared a space on the table and raised his eyes to his friend. “What have you been doing? You look like something that washed ashore.”

“Wow, thank you,” Leah laughed. “I can always count on you for a compliment.” She pushed a drink into his hand. “This day has been something.”

Elliott nodded. He sipped his ale and waited for her to continue.

“It was so nice out earlier, right?”

“Serene.”

“Yeah. So, I’m out foraging for mushrooms this afternoon, and it gets dark all of a sudden. Like nighttime showed up six hours early. Then the rain starts.” She paused to sip her drink. “So like, when you live in the woods, you hear weird shit all the time. Animals. Usually birds. You think nothing of it, right? But this time— right as there’s this super close bolt of lightning, thunder crashes— and I hear a scream. I swear, I went so still, just letting myself get rained on. But I felt like, either something horrible had just happened or like— I don’t know, ghosts?”

“What was it?” Elliott leaned forward in his chair. This was the most exciting thing to happen in this town in months.

“So I’m standing there soaking wet, almost sure I imagined it when I hear it again. And it’s somebody screaming for help. So I just take off to where I thought it was coming from. Then I end up by the cliffs and find Peach screaming her head off, and Shane passed out on the ground. And the clouds above us at this point are black, but out over the water, they’re darker. I ran to the clinic as fast as I could.

“So I’ve been running through the woods and to the clinic and Marnie’s house and babysitting Jas. And now I’m having a drink.” She tapped her glass against his and took a healthy swig.

“Are they alright?” 

“Marnie said Shane should be fine. They’re checking out Peach, too. She was pretty bruised up.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know details, but Shane was really drunk. From what I could tell, Peach found him out there like that. She was so upset.”

Elliott felt uneasy. Only days ago, he’d run into Peach on the pier. It had been a brilliantly bright afternoon. The sea had sparkled, and even the gulls’ shrill calls sounded like music. She looked like a painting, her hair and loose shirt catching the breeze. She absently held her fishing pole, slouching over to read a book held open with seashells. The sea wind carried optimism on its salty breath, and Elliott let it draw him toward her. He was glad he did.

“Hey,” Emily’s bright voice came from behind them. Leah and Elliott turned in their chairs. “Leah, um. Marnie called, and she wondered if you might be able to help her with Jas tomorrow morning. We’re gonna go up to Peach’s to help her get settled when she gets out of the clinic.”

“She’s still there?” Leah leaned on the elbow she rested on the table. “Poor thing.”

“Yeah, I brought some food over there a while ago. Harvey says she can’t walk for a week.”

“That’s gotta suck,” Leah sighed. “I’ll help any way I can.”

“Thanks, Leah.” Emily grinned, her brown eyes gleaming in the warm light. With a wave, she returned to the bar.

Elliott drained his beer and turned to Leah.

“Mind if I order another?”

“Not if you bring me one.”

Elliott stood and picked up his glass. The jukebox pumped an old song on low volume through the smoky air. It blended with the murmur of the small crowd that had gathered in the big wooden room. They all seemed as if they had always been there. Elliott gazed down the length of the bar. It was surreal not to find Shane at the other end, drink in hand.

“Two more?” Emily grinned as he approached.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, watching as she refilled his glass from the tap and poured a fresh one for Leah. “About what you said earlier. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe,” Emily said, raising an eyebrow. “Any idea what you would do if you weren’t allowed on your feet for a while?”

“I can think of something,” Elliott grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 02.23.21  
> wow hi so with how much fun I was having just... posting a whole bunch last weekend, I forgot to say: this work isn't gonna focus on three scenes anymore. Like the 'storm' scenes were (somehow 🤦) not on my original list. I have four more scenes to explore in this format so there will be at least twelve more "chapters" of this. I'm toying with the idea of adding a few extra scenes as well, but I haven't decided if they'll fit best here or as works of their own. I figure I'll know once they're written.
> 
> Anyway that's all. thanks for reading byeee ✨


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